


i found love where it wasn't supposed to be

by HeartonFire



Series: take me back to places I feel loved in [2]
Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Domestic Fluff, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Isolation, Love Confessions, Pandemics, Smut, kastlequarantine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:00:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23237335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartonFire/pseuds/HeartonFire
Summary: Karen is ready to spend the New York City lock-down alone in her apartment, but Frank's not about to let that happen.For Kastle Quarantine Week.
Relationships: Frank Castle/Karen Page
Series: take me back to places I feel loved in [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1669303
Comments: 18
Kudos: 134





	i found love where it wasn't supposed to be

The news had been coming for days, weeks, even, but when word came down of the full city shutdown, Karen couldn’t quite believe it.

“Go home, Page. It’s governor's orders, so you have to do it.” Ellison leaned against her door, arms folded as he surveyed her over the top of his wire-frame glasses.

“I know. I’m going.” She still didn’t move. She had so much work to do, so much research to finish, so many sources to track down, and she wasn’t going to be able to do it all from home. She needed the archives at  _ the Bulletin _ to get into the nitty-gritty details, and she had to be able to go out. The idea of sitting her apartment, with no one to talk to, no one to distract her from her own thoughts, was honestly her nightmare. There was a reason she worked so much, and it wasn’t just that she loved her job.

“I mean it. I’ll call the cops to escort you out if I have to.” 

“Fine,” Karen sighed, closing her laptop and picking up her bag. She packed it with as many files as she could fit and stood, waving Ellison away. “You better back up. Can’t get too close, either.”

“See you on the other side,” he said, tipping his head in a nod as he headed for his own office. It looked like they were the last two people in the office. Most people had cleared out as soon as the word came down, ready to go home to their families and make sure everyone was safe.

The sky was gray and cold when Karen pushed through the door to get outside. She shivered and pulled her coat tighter around herself, looking up at the darkening sky and trying not to think about what the next several weeks might look like. It wasn’t until she was a half-block away from her apartment that she remembered: she had no food, no toilet paper, no supplies for an extended stay at home. 

She knew, from all the reports, that the stores closest to her apartment were likely to be cleared out already, and she couldn’t face the idea of going all the way across town to find the same situation there, too.

She had just accepted the fact that she was going to be isolated, in her tiny apartment, with nothing to eat but some stale crackers and maybe an expired beer or two, when she turned the corner and spotted someone sitting on her front steps.

Not just someone. 

Frank Castle was there, paper bags, bulging with groceries, all around him. He stood as she approached, rolling his shoulders back like they were stiff. She wondered how long he had been there, waiting for her.

“Thought you might need some supplies.” He looked down, and Karen could have sworn she saw a flush of pink on his cheeks that might not have had anything to do with the chilly day.

She smiled, just holding back her laughter. “You know me well. Come on, we better get inside.” The last thing she wanted was for Frank to get caught by the patrols that were trying to keep as many people as possible inside. Grabbing a couple of bags, she led him up to her apartment, fumbling with her keys. It was a disaster, dishes piled in the sink, clothes lying everywhere, papers stacked on every visible surface, and she couldn't remember the last time she had dusted or swept.

Frank didn’t seem to notice, placing the groceries on her counter and unpacking them like this was normal, like this was a thing they did. Like he hadn’t left her behind, months ago, with little more than a cryptic note, slid under her door, to let her know he was alive. 

“Why are you here, Frank?” she said quietly, and he froze, hand hovering over one of the bags.

He turned, slowly, and she saw the lines on his face deepen. “I didn’t want you to be alone.”

Karen heard what he meant. He didn’t want to be alone, either. He wanted to be with her. He wasn’t able to say it, but she knew it was true. They didn’t have to get into it right now. If she was hearing him right, they’d have plenty of time to figure out all their issues in the days and weeks to come.

“Thanks.” He gave her a half-smile and turned back to the bags.

“And, I figured I’m better equipped to fight for the last package of toilet paper than you are, anyway.” He held up his prize and shook it triumphantly.

A laugh slipped out of Karen in a burst, and she clapped a hand over her mouth. “You might be right about that.”

“Now, you sit down, have a glass of wine, and let me make us some dinner.”

“You cook?” She didn’t mean to sound so surprised, but she saw the wry smile on Frank’s face at her tone.

“Yes. Now, take this,” he said, handing her a generous glass of red wine, “and go relax.” She tried to grab her bag, but he nudged it out of her way with his foot. “I mean it. Take a break.”

“Fine,” she huffed, going to sink down onto the couch and respond to the flurry of texts that had come in after the news of the lock-down broke. Foggy and Matt had sent messages, along with a few of her coworkers from  _ the Bulletin _ . By the time she looked up from her phone, the apartment was filled with the smell of garlic and tomatoes and Karen turned to peek at what Frank was doing.

He had tossed a towel over his shoulder and was stirring and chopping and humming to himself, like he was totally comfortable in her kitchen. Like he belonged here. Like it hadn’t been over a year since he was here for the first and last time, with his flowers and his hug and his plea for help.

She traced a fingertip over the rim of her glass, leaning against the back of the couch. It was nice to see him like this. He looked good, healthy, mercifully uninjured. She hadn’t seen a single bruise or cut on his face. Scars, sure, but she knew better than most that those don’t just fade away.

“Something smells good,” she said, moving across the room to lean against the counter, and Frank turned to shoot her a grin over his shoulder.

“Still sound awfully surprised about it.”

“What are you making?”

“Pasta, garlic bread,” he grunted, pulling a sizzling pan out of her oven. Karen couldn’t even remember the last time she had  _ used _ her oven. “Go on, sit down.” He nodded towards her tiny table and she nodded, watching as he scooped some pasta onto a plate and slid a few pieces of garlic bread beside it. He set it down in front of her and Karen stared down at it, still not quite believing it was real.

“I don’t know the last time I ate a home cooked meal,” she mumbled, really trying to remember. She had lived on takeout and restaurant meals for so long, she had forgotten the power that food like this, food from someone who cared about her, could have.

“Yeah? You don’t cook?”

She smiled, sipping her wine. “Not really. I  _ can _ cook. I just don’t usually have time.”

Frank nodded. “Sure.”

“Thank you,” she said, leaning towards him a little. The wine was going straight to her head, and she knew it, but she didn’t care. She was safe, here with Frank. He wasn’t going anywhere, this time. She wasn’t either. There was nowhere to go.

“Happy to help.”

“Who taught you?”

His smile turned a little sad. “My mom. And then Maria was all about Italian food, so I got pretty good at it.”

Karen nodded, as the first bite danced over her tongue, flavors sparking at different moments and making her slow down to taste everything. She was used to scarfing down whatever takeout had struck her fancy that day, but this was different. She didn’t have to rush off to find a source or finish a story. She had nowhere to be but here.

With Frank.

Suddenly, her apartment felt very small. He was watching her, but pretending he wasn’t. Every time she looked down, she felt his eyes on her, but when she looked up again, he was staring down at his plate like it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.

He wouldn’t even let her help him clean up, sweeping her plate away from her before she could even protest. He just poured her another glass of wine and insisted she sit on the couch and relax.

Two glasses of wine was one too many, these days, and her eyes were closing before Frank even made it over to the couch to join her in watching some reality competition show that blared too loudly from her terribly out-of-date TV. He tugged the glass out of her hand and she mumbled something in protest as he lifted her bodily from where she lay and carried her into her bedroom.

She vaguely registered the soft smile crossing Frank’s face as he stood over her for a long moment, staring down at her like he was trying to memorize her face. Like he wanted to remember every detail of what she looked like. Like he had almost forgotten, in all the time they were apart. 

“Frank?” she whispered, and she saw his eyes snap back to meet hers.

“Go to sleep, Karen.”

She nodded, and she was out cold before he had even left the room. 

In the morning, she woke to the smell of eggs and coffee and shook her head. Her head ached a little, just around the edges, and a cup of coffee could only help.

“Morning,” she mumbled, running her fingers through her hair as she blinked blearily against the light streaming through her living room windows. “Did you sleep?”

“Morning,” Frank said, dodging her question. “Coffee?”

Karen nodded, and Frank slid a mug across the counter to her. It already had her usual cream and two sugars in it, and she smiled when she realized he still remembered how she took her coffee. She didn’t know how he knew it, but it didn’t really matter. He passed a plate with two eggs, over easy, and two slices of toast, towards her, and she shook her head again.

“You’re something, you know that?”

His eyebrows shot up, and he leaned back against her counter, arms folded. “Is that right?”

“Yeah.” She nodded, and he scoffed out a laugh. “That’s right. You show up here, after  _ months _ of radio silence, and make me dinner and breakfast and,” she looked around, noticing the shining floors and pristine surfaces, “ _ clean my apartment _ , all because you don’t want me to be alone during the lock-down?”

He shrugged, shifting his weight a little as his eyes dropped to the floor. “You want me to leave, I’ll go,” he muttered, actively looking at anything but her.

“I don’t want you to leave.” Karen slid off her stool and moved to stand in front of him. “I just want to understand what’s really going on. I let it go last night, because I was hungry and I didn’t want to be alone either, but if we’re really doing this, really spending this quarantine together, we need to talk about it.”

“I know,” he grumbled, like he had hoped they could skip this part. He certainly didn’t seem surprised that she didn’t just let him off the hook, but he definitely looked a little unsettled.

“Where have you been, Frank? Why did you come back? Why now?”

He sighed. “I’ve been busy, Karen. I didn’t want you to be part of that.”

“And what, now you’re done? It’s over?”

He shrugged. “Yeah. I did what I needed to do.”

“So, you just happened to come back in the middle of a pandemic, and you just happened to pick up enough groceries to feed two people for weeks?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged again, looking thoroughly uncomfortable now. 

“And that’s it? That’s the whole story?”

“Yes. That’s it. I wanted to help. Figured you could use the company.”

Normally, Karen would never have let him get away with that, but it was sweet, in that quintessentially Frank way, that he would give up his Punishing to make sure she had what she needed in a pandemic. It made sense, in a way only he could.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Silence fell over them, but it wasn’t awkward, exactly. Karen ate her eggs quietly, refusing to comment on the perfectly cooked yolks that she mopped up with the toast slices. Frank slid the plate away from her again, as soon as she finished, cleaning it before she could even say a word.

* * *

They settled into a routine after that, Frank cooking their meals, Karen working on the couch or at the table, taking breaks to watch the silly action movies Frank insisted on watching all day. Sometimes, he worked out while he watched, and she’d be lying if she said that wasn’t a little distracting, especially when he got too hot and took his shirt off.

“How can you even watch this?” she asked, as the third or fourth or seven-hundredth Rambo movie blasted machine-gun fire and explosions through her living room for the sixth day in a row. 

“You want me to turn it off?”

She shook her head. “I just don’t get it.”

“What? You’d rather watch some romcom where everyone falls in love at the end?” 

Karen scoffed. “No. Not necessarily. Just something other than this.”

“Fine,” he said, tossing her the remote. He never sat too close when they were both on the couch, always gave her space. They were still working out the boundaries of this whole thing, the borders of comfort for both of them. 

They finally settled on a cooking show, Frank muttering commentary about the host’s technique and Karen finally giving up on even attempting to focus on the article she was supposed to be writing. Ellison had eased up a little on deadlines, under the circumstances. She could afford a little bit of a break.

Setting her laptop to the side, she stretched out her legs, until her feet just grazed the side of Frank’s thigh. He stiffened for a moment, before relaxing into this new position. She had never touched him like this, so casually, so easily. There had been a desperate hug, a brush of a kiss, the quick press of his forehead to hers, but they had never had time like this, to just be.

She must have eventually dozed off, because when her eyes opened again, Frank had pulled the blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over her while she slept. She could hear him in the kitchen, rustling through their supplies for something to make for dinner. 

It was odd, she realized, how quickly they had settled into this new reality. For once, there was no one else getting between them. For once, they were the only people in the world who mattered. She had gotten very used to all of it, in this short time, but what was going to happen when the world returned to normal and they returned to the world? Could they bear it?

Karen sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and watched Frank for a long moment. He wasn’t even wearing shoes at this point, and he had swapped his usual tactical gear for a soft t-shirt and black sweats. The lines that usually creased his face with all the guilt and rage he carried were gone, and his beard was growing out again, hair curling around his ears, still wet from a shower. She wondered if this is what he might have looked like if none of the things that had brought them together had happened, if his family was still here.

“Good, you’re awake,” he said, not turning around. “Can you come here for a second?”

Karen stood, stretching a little to get the cricks out of her back. She padded over to where Frank stood, and raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re going to let me help?” He had insisted that he would do all the cooking since the day he had appeared on her stoop. She had almost been offended, but he was such a good cook, she hadn’t pushed it too much.

“Just stir,” he said, almost rolling his eyes at her.

“I do know how to cut a vegetable, just for the record.”

He huffed out a laugh. “I believe you. For now, just stir.”

Karen took the spoon from him and stirred the broth as he dropped the vegetables in to cook, along with some herbs she was pretty sure he must have brought with him, because she definitely didn’t have them before he showed up.

“Open,” he said, holding a spoon to her lips. She did, and hummed in delight as the broth spread over her tongue. “Good?”

She nodded. “Hey, Frank?”

“Yeah?” he said, turning to sprinkle a little more salt into the pot, smiling a little to himself.

“What are we doing?”

“What do you mean?” He took the wooden spoon from her hand and put a lid on it, turning down the heat. He wasn’t looking at her.

“I mean, after all this is over, whenever that is, what happens here?”

He leaned back against the counter, hands clenching against the surface so hard his knuckles went white. “What do you want to happen?”

Karen froze. After everything that had happened between them, after pushing her away for so long, he was trying to make this  _ her _ decision? 

“You know what I want to happen, Frank.” Her voice was low and shaking a little, but she had to say it. 

“You still do?” He was watching her, wary, like he was trying to read her face for some unspoken meaning.

“Yeah,” she whispered, leaning towards him.

Frank stepped closer to her, those eyes holding her in place, just like they had that terrible day in the hospital.

“Okay.”

Her heart skipped. “Okay?”

Frank nodded. “Okay. I’m not going anywhere. Not now, not after, not ever if you don’t want me to.”

“Really?” she said, voice cracking a little. She might have been dreaming, if not for the cold tile under her feet making her shiver.

“Yeah. I meant what I said. I’m done. I’m here, if you want me to stay.”

He lifted a hand to graze along the side of her arm, and Karen began to tremble. She bit her lip, looking down at her bare, pale toes, wiggling against the newly spotless floor.

“I want you to stay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Before he could say anything else, Karen leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

She had thought about it. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t. But the dream and the reality were two wholly different things. Frank was warm, and pliant under her touch, and the way he groaned when their lips met radiated through her body as he pulled her closer. She could feel the muscles of his chest, hard against her breasts, could feel his heart racing in time with hers. Her mouth opened to him, and he pressed his tongue inside, drawing a low moan from deep in her core.

Tugging him forward, she walked backwards to lead him towards her bedroom. He had been adamant that he wouldn’t come in, that he wouldn’t invade her space like that, but she wasn’t giving him a choice, now. If he was here, if he was staying, there was nothing holding them back from each other anymore. Whatever boundaries they had put in place to manage this situation, those were blown to pieces now. 

“You’re sure?” he mumbled, still trying to kiss her as he spoke. When his eyes opened, she saw how dark they had become, pupils wide with desire.

“Yes, Frank. Are you?”

He grinned, savage and sweet, and kissed her again, harder this time, his hands tracing over the hem of her shirt until she finally pulled it off herself, taking her bra with it, growling with frustration. The moment his fingertips whispered against her bare skin, she thought she might burst into flame. He was so gentle with her, so careful, it was like none of their baggage and none of their bullshit mattered anymore. If he would only keep touching her like this, she knew they could figure it out, whatever came their way.

He nudged her back towards the bed, tugging his own shirt over his head. Karen had become very familiar with the contours of Frank’s chest, over the last week, but it was something different to touch it, to feel his bare skin against hers, to feel the heat of him as they both fought to control themselves. It had been such a long time coming, this  _ thing _ between them, and it was hard not to feel overwhelmed, overloaded with sensations at every nerve ending.

She reached for him, tracing over the muscles of his stomach, his chest, his shoulders, as he leaned over her. She could feel him shaking under her touch, and she pulled him closer to kiss him.

“I know,” she breathed, kissing down his neck. “I know, Frank.”

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he mumbled, nuzzling into her shoulder. “I didn’t think I could do this anymore.”

“We don’t have to do anything, Frank.”

“I know.” He kissed her again. “I want to. God, do I want to.”

Karen smiled, and he mirrored her grin right back to her, sinking to his knees, hands tracing down, over her ribcage, tugging down her yoga pants to leave her bare in front of him. He pressed her knees apart, kissing each one as he slid his fingers up to her hips, trailing over the crease and raising goosebumps everywhere he touched.

He looked up at her, with those intense, dark eyes, and she let one hand fall to his head, tangling in his curls. He let out a long, low breath.The sensation of it tickled against her center, and she squirmed in his grasp. 

When Frank’s tongue finally pressed against her slick folds, Karen thought she might have levitated up to the ceiling at the feeling. He circled her clit, humming his pleasure, and the suction of his lips and the slide of his tongue was enough to have her almost over the edge already. Frank was nowhere near done, though, sliding a finger inside her and bending it to hit a spot none of her previous partners had even attempted to find. Her back arched off the bed, and she felt the tremors building as her climax hit her, hard and fast. She shook with the force of it, and Frank continued lapping at her, easing her through the aftershocks with an easy rhythm that had her already building towards another release.

“Please, Frank,” she whispered, tugging at his hair to pull him up to meet her. She crushed her mouth to his, sloppy and desperate. She could taste herself on his lips and it made her press her hips against his even harder. She needed him so badly it would have hurt if it didn’t already feel so good.

“Condom?” he asked, lifting his head to look her straight in the eyes. 

“We don’t need one,” she said, bolder than she expected. “I’m on the pill.”

Something in Frank’s eyes flared, and he turned them over, staring up at her like he couldn’t quite believe they were here, together, after all this time. Karen couldn’t exactly believe it herself, but she wasn’t about to question it. 

She lifted her hips to position herself over him, and as she sank down, watching Frank’s eyes fall closed, a whisper tumbled out of her before she could stop it.

“I love you.”

Frank’s eyes shot open again, and his hands clenched against her hips. “Yeah?” Karen nodded, heart racing as he filled her completely. “I love you, too.”

A breath hissed out of her as she let go of the last scrap of uncertainty about this, about them, and started to move. The feeling of Frank, inside her, around her, was everything she had hoped it would be. It was more, because it was real.

He let her set the pace, rolling her hips against his, building her pace until she felt another orgasm crashing over her. She released it with a moan, fingers tightening against his chest to leave harsh, red marks behind. 

Frank turned them, then, let her come down from her high before he moved again. She could see him straining, trying to hold himself back, but that’s not what she wanted.

“Let go, Frank,” she murmured, hands falling from his head to stroke down his arms.

He nodded, and as though she had flipped a switch, he shifted his angle, increased his pace, and she could tell he was close. 

“Let go,” she whispered again, and she felt it as he pulsed inside her, climaxing with a shout of her name as he collapsed on top of her, shaking with relief. When he pulled himself up to roll off of her, she saw the tears in his eyes. “Frank?”

He shook his head, wiping at his cheeks as he settled onto his back. He tugged Karen closer, so she could rest her head on his chest. She heard his heart thundering in his chest, felt his lungs expanding, and she waited. He would tell her, in his own time. He always did.

She felt his fingers trailing through her hair, over and over again, soothing her.

“I love you,” he murmured, in time with the stroking of his fingers. “I love you, and I didn’t know I knew how, anymore. After,” he said, clearing his throat. “After Maria, and, and the kids, I didn’t know I knew how. I thought that part of me was gone, burned away.” He swallowed. “But you...you brought it back. You gave that back to me.”

“Frank,” she whispered, looking up at him. “You gave it back to me too.”

A smile startled onto his face and he leaned down to kiss her again.

For all that Karen had been afraid of what the lock-down would take away from her, she had never expected what it would give her.

**Author's Note:**

> It was inevitable, once I saw the post on Tumblr, so here it is: my contribution to Kastle Quarantine Week. If you sent me a prompt, I promise I'm working on it, but this one just really got away from me. Kudos and comments are always appreciated!


End file.
